


An Old Married Couple

by lulebell



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulebell/pseuds/lulebell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The times they act like an old married couple and the one time they don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Old Married Couple

**Author's Note:**

> With beta thanks to serenitymeimei.

It's a stormy night. A strong wind pushes against man-made structures, daring it to push harder. They can take it; they were designed for nights just like these. 

Joan wraps a blanket tightly around her shoulders and reaches out for her mug. It's cold now; she always takes too long to drink when she's engrossed in a book. 

_After this chapter,_ she thinks and barely notices the squealing kettle in the kitchen behind her. She murmurs a "thank you" when Sherlock refills her mug without her asking. He says nothing, rocking on the tips of his toes, a silent exuberance emitting from every part of his being. 

"Do you need any help?" she asks demurely. 

_From you, always._ "If you feel like you could offer it," he prods. 

She understands and sets her book down, gathers the blanket's ends up in her fists and pulls herself out of her chair. She makes her way to the floor beside the nest he built there for himself. 

With her tea in hand, he resumes his familiar place beside her. He's surprised to find that he likes her presence, more and more. She's there, with him, for him, always. And even though they bicker, even though they're constantly negotiating and re-negotiating their relationship, their boundaries and their partnership, she's there and she's not going anywhere. 

She still says she's looking for a new place to live and he lets her believe that he believes her lie, even though it is a most unbecoming trait to a young apprentice. But that's what she needs right now and he's perfectly happy to give it to her. He can feel her unreadiness, her inability to talk about it right now and he tries not to find fault with every apartment she circles in the classifieds. Eventually she'll stop bringing them home - all he has to do is be patient. 

There's a comfortable silence between them that they both appreciate and respect. A mutual understanding that neither has to fill in with meaningless talk, even though Joan often still does. But he finds himself not missing the crushing silence that once permeated the brownstone before he knew her and that surprises him.  
She knows, but doesn't mention it. He's grateful and hands her another cup of tea. 

The ghosts they both knew don't haunt them as often as they once did. Thoughts of drugs and dead patients and estranged fathers and ex-lovers are all kept at bay with cups of tea and murder victims. The more puzzles she solves, the more connections she makes, the more he smiles and soon she's counting up how many she gets in a day. But when they reared their ugly heads, there was always a soft place to fall. 

They are perfectly okay with each other. Their deepest and darkest secrets, the ones hidden so perfectly from the rest of the world, lay in the open for them to see and neither of them flinched. Because for them, they were both enough. 

They knew these things about each other before: he knew everything about her after one look and the smallest of conversation, she learned about him over their weeks as companion and client, but now there's something that's solidified with them both. 

Now, she can't remember what it's like to not wake up to him calling out her name, demanding that she _Wake up now and get out of bed because we have a lot of work to do today!_ She doesn't want to go back to life before. 

\--

At some point she changes her emergency contact information. For Sherlock, this the most logical step: they're together almost all the time and if something were to happen to her, it would most likely come from their work. For Joan, it's something more, something she can't quite put her finger on but he knows. 

They're basically married now - someone to share the experience with. She's happy now, bursting around the brownstone, basking in pride when he makes any acknowledgement of her accomplishments, even though they're still basic at best.

The one thing they are not, however, are lovers. Friends, maybe even best friends, in mutually understandable and beneficial relationship, a domestic partnership, but not lovers. 

_It's not that kind of relationship_ she tries to explain to inquisitors, her therapist for one, whom Joan can't get to understand why on earth what she's still doing there. She still can't quite put into words how much happier she is now; the more work she does with Sherlock, the more she loves it and what he does, but not him, certainly not him. She tries not to read too much into his stares and lets him believe she has no idea that he knows everything about her. 

Like when she gets tired of her work, she always leans back into her chair, pulls her hair to one side with her hand and rubs the back of her neck. She stares into the distance and even though all she can see are the brownstone's walls, she fixates on them, losing herself in the moment. 

He's lost too: awestruck and transfixed by her motions. He watches as she slides her fingers over the back of her neck, resting her other thumb on her collar bone. He has the strangest of urges. He'd like very much to be the one holding her hair, pushing it over her shoulder, rubbing her skin. But he can't because they are only friends in a most unusual domestic partnership. 

But yet, he always watches her. 

\--

It was amazing that they found each other. They were like two threads, flailing loosely in the wind, without an anchor or anything to bind them to this life. Their purposes stripped away through deeds done wrong, but now, they find themselves bound together through a kind of matrimony, one that would save them both from the ghosts that ran wild through their heads. Together, they can hold back the chaos of the world. 

\--

It's a stormy night. Joan sits beside him on the floor with her blanket and consistently refreshed cup of tea. He with his files, his papers, and his puzzles and his partner while outside, the storm rages on.


End file.
